Coffin Fit
by Weavillain
Summary: Lucy had something special in mind for her and Lincoln. She just needed Lana to be on board with her idea.


It was on a calm Summer afternoon when Lucy Loud realized that she should've known better than to underestimate Lana, to believe that she wouldn't have suspected the slightest whiff of fishiness in her request to join her in her room so that she could discuss a favor that had her skills in mind.

The list of things that could unnerve her was about as short as Lola's temper—coincidentally, _that_ item was on such a list. However, the goth had no idea that all it would take to make her tummy squirm, her heart to swell from rapid beats, and for beads of sweat to dot her forehead would be the subtle signs of Lana's incredulity that flared up on her face—in the form of narrowed eyes, a faint frown, and elongated hums— as she scanned her older sister's written request.

If not for the fact that Lana's skepticism wasn't glaring directly at her, Lucy was sure that she'd combust from the nervous tension that had her in its jaws. But because she wasn't, she was allowed enough room to breathe and silently hope that, perhaps, Lana _wasn't_ digging through her ploy—the imagination could a wicked mistress when it was fueled by fear.

Not that her fear wasn't founded by reason. It made her wince simply to _watch_ her sibling's orchestrated teasing when someone else was at the center of it. Just imagining it happening to her could inspire five pages worth of angst-riddled poetry. Only this time, there'd be much more at stake than them finding out that _she_ was the one who was into _Princess Pony_.

There were also emotions and thoughts about someone near and dear to her heart at play, and it was bad enough knowing that no one, not even her family, would regard them with respect. They'd probably snicker and make rude remarks, even as they pretended to love her all the same. Or worse, they'd probably pity her and think that there was something..._wrong_ with her.

_Sigh. _

She knew that she could never be alone as long as _he _was there to unwittingly give her body and soul indescribable peace, but it still felt like it was a case of her going out against the world.

But that was just a feeling. In reality, she was now facing the dubious tone of Lana's words.

"Soooo, lemme get this straight, you want me to make your coffin even bigger than it already is, line up the interior with even more padding, and have it done as soon as possible because of...uh..._ambulance_, I think?

Lucy was too worked up to find her blunder humorous. "I-I actually said 'ambiance'."

Lana rolled her eyes, her glance studying her sister once the rotation ended. "Pssh. Whatever _that_ means."

"It's a goth thing. You, um, w-wouldn't understand."

Things grew quiet after that, but the lack of interrogation didn't put Lucy at ease. Now, she had to contend with how helpless she felt as she watched Lana scrunch up her face in thought as she tapped her chin—without the telepathy that only the creatures of her novels could be imbued with, she couldn't tap into her sister's brain and try to misdirect her suspicions.

But worse came to pass when Lana's crystal blue eyes lit up the room as a feeling of "Eureka!" seemingly shone on her features. The accompanying frown didn't make things better.

"Hey, Luce? Wanna know what I _do_ understand?"

Lucy's throat swarmed with dry heat, and it forced her to let out a cough rather than words.

…

Not that she could find any to help her out of this.

"That you're a big, fat fibber!" Even though the noise of her timid gulp was hardly above a whisper, Lucy felt self-conscious enough for it sound as as loud as a foghorn blaring in her ears. "That's right! I know _exactly_ why you want me to make all these adjustments on your coffin!"

The feeling of sturdiness in her legs vanished, forcing Lucy to plop down on her knees as she shook.

It was over. It was all over, and in worse fashion than she could've thought. Now, the thought of Lana laughing in her face, before she ran off to tell the others of her discovery, paled in comparison to her indignation. She _had_ to be disgusted with her, probably enough to think of her as less than human, let alone her sister.

…

But then...why was Lana suddenly grinning at her with satisfaction, as if she had gotten away with sneaking away with Lola's slice of cheesecake without her noticing?

She folded her arms and lifted her head high. "You just want a cozy place to stash all your Halloween candy."

…

_What?_

The bubbling dread that once brewed violently in Lucy's gut started to die down, and the breadth of relief that passed over her finally allowed her to breathe. With oxygen finally flooding into her brain, she gained the wherewithal to play along and jump through the window of opportunity. She feigned a sheepish smile and rubbed her arm as if to say, "Ya got me!"

Lana chuckled. "Ha! I knew it! Well, guess what?! If I'm gonna help you, I want a 60% cut on the haul you make this year!"

Lucy had to keep up the facade of having her arm twisted, lest a bigger smile creep up on her face. A few pieces of candy was a small price to pay to keep her secrets close to her heart.

"Sigh," Lucy said and snapped her fingers. "Well, gosh darnit. What can I say? When I've been had, I've been had. Oh well."

Lucy threw in another sigh, just for good measure. "You have a deal. Sorry for deceiving you."

That was another lie to add to the pile, but it wasn't anything she'd be losing sleep over. It helped that Lana was too proud of herself to be peeved at her.

"S'alright. I can't stay mad when you add sour gummy worms to the mix. They may not be as good as the real thing, but they're a close second." Her eyes sparkled as she dropped the paper down and held her cheeks in her hands. "Ooooooh, and don't get me started on fudge-covered crickets! I could go on about those babies for hours!"

Lucy could only imagine the shade of sickly green that swathed over her face as she felt her stomach lurch with queasy pangs.

"I'd rather you not, please," she said, clutching her midsection.

Lana shrugged. "Eh, suit yourself."

She scampered away once she grabbed the coffin specs off the floor and shut the door on the most tense conversation of Lucy's life. A few silent moments passed before the residual stress drifted away, and left Lucy sailing peacefully through the clouds. Another sigh passed through her smiling lips, the feeling of utter contentment sailing through her.

At last, nothing could get between her and her beloved now. She still couldn't put her finger on what made her want to draw closer to him, but his kindness and respect for her feelings usually came to the forefront. There was his attentiveness to her worst days to consider, how he always seemed to know exactly what to say to chase away any darkness that she didn't invite into her life.

And she hoped that the moments they had together would make him feel the same way. If not, then she was determined to start lifting her own weight once Lana was finished.

But whether she was in the red or not, one thing was certain—she still couldn't wait to spend more alone time with her big brother.

* * *

_**TWO DAYS LATER...**_

* * *

The peace the gentle evening brought was the perfect stage for what was to come, as far as Lucy was concerned.

The silver moonlight peeling through her window and shining down on her new coffin couldn't have been anything but the spirits making the night more magical.

And the best part? Lynn was fast asleep, a whole day's worth of tennis practice ensuring that anything short of a 6.0 category earthquake would fail to wake her up.

_'Perfect.'_

With a flashlight and a copy of the latest issue of _Princess Pony_ tucked under her arm, she scanned the room once more, detecting nothing worth troubling over. Soon, the sound of the coffin lid's creaking momentarily mixed in with Lynn's snores as Lucy stepped inside.

Room enough for two, she thought with a smile. _More_ than enough, in fact. Lana had done wonders in making her bed even more comforting than it already was. The extra padding to the red velvet lining gently pressed against her back as she laid down, the cushiony softness kneading into her muscles.

It was almost enough to lull her to sleep. _Almost_. Soft tapping on the coffin made her jolt to life, nearly knocking her head against the top as she sat up. Pleasant tingles swam into her brain, making her feel fuzzy and giddy all at once.

"Password?" Lucy whispered, not even bothering to make her tone neutral.

"Red string," whispered a familiar voice.

"You may enter."

She was ready to turn on the flashlight to guide her brother inside, but then she remembered that the moonlight could do that for him. That lid creaking rang out again, and it finally ceased when-

"Hey there, Spooky."

There he was, addressing her with a warm smile and a nickname that sounded best when it came from him.

And with that in mind, it was only fair to address him in kind.

"Hey there, Linky," she replied.

That earned her a quiet snigger as he crawled inside, looking over to see if Lynn had somehow been stirred awake. She had taken his laughter in stride, even if she was sure it was at her expense. After all, _Lincoln's_ teasing never carried the sting that her sister's usually did.

At least, that's how she saw it.

"What's so funny?" she asked, flicking the flashlight on and setting it on its end directly in the center.

It was just enough for her to see him without blinding him. More importantly than that, she could see the depths of his blue eyes gazing at him and his affectionate grin.

"Nothing. I guess I just need to get used to you calling me that."

If there was anything about his words that Lucy could relate to, it was getting used to things. At first, even she had to admit how...weird it felt to want to be so close to her brother all the time. She knew that she cared for him but..._this_ much?

Had his vow to protect her secret affected her so much that she began viewing him as a sort of security blanket? Something warm and comforting to cling on when she felt powerless? A relic to confide every depth of her being to without fear of judgment? For a while, Edwin had filled that role, but there was something more satisfying with attaching to something that was capable of conversation, something with flesh and blood...

Something with words and hugs that cold ceramic didn't have a hope of providing. These past few months had proven that Lincoln was a master surgeon of stitching wounded spirits back together, and she didn't want to give that up for anything or anyone.

And it wasn't like she had to coerce him into doing stuff like reading _Princess Pony_ with her in the dead of night and going so far as to promise to cover for her again if they were to ever get discovered. He made those noble gestures on his own volition, and she couldn't help but make things more personal than they probably ought to have been.

She liked to believe that this was proof that Lincoln had special treatment of her in mind, even it was selfish to think that he cared more for her than his other sisters.

...

And yet...that was the sort of attention that she wouldn't try to deny if it _was_ true. She'd be a fool if she did. Even though she had only been alive for almost nine years, she was resolute in the belief that people like Lincoln only came around once in a full moon. Why _not_ soak up as much of his love as she could, even if there was no deeper meaning behind his actions?

"Hmmmm..."

Her wandering mind was snatched out of its reverie by that sound, and once Lucy focused on her brother once more, she had to see the last thing she wanted on her brother's face.

_Dissatisfaction_.

Lucy's heart sank. "Something wrong?"

"No biggie. Just gimme a second."

Before she could ask what he meant, he scooted closer to her, taking care not to jostle the coffin enough to knock the flashlight down. In seconds, he was behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder, and his warm breath tickling the skin of her ear. It made her tingle and grin lazily, and she was grateful for the fact that he probably couldn't see her cheeks pinken. It wasn't the first time that such close contact made her head feel his woozy and her heart to skip a beat, but there was nothing she felt she could do to explain herself if Lincoln caught on to what was going on.

The most she could say for herself was that, sometime, it was a little hard to remember that they shared the same blood.

"Much better," he asked, his whisper eliciting a tiny giggle. "This coffin's cozy and all, but you're _way_ cozier."

She could feel the color of her blush deepening as her smile stretched wider. Truly, she was proud of herself for being good enough for that sort of praise, even if she didn't have to do much to make it happen.

And perhaps, there was more than simple pride as well, but she was content with not exploring beyond the surface.

"So," Lincoln continued, "I think we left off at page...23, right?"

Lucy nodded, knowing that he was wrong. They had last stopped reading at page 29, but anything to get him to stay with her just a little bit longer than usual was alright with her.

"Okay, so why don't I read the part of Glittermare while you read the part of the crystal genie? I don't mean to brag, but I can play a pretty mean pony when I feel like it."

His joke made her laugh, but she knew he could back it up. Either that, or she had convinced herself that Lincoln could play any part he wanted to perfection. And she wasn't just thinking about the comic, either. He could be the best encouragement, best poem proofreader, best muse, best listener, best secret keeper, best...everything and anything that she could ever ask for.

But for now and possibly for forever, she settled on having him being the best and most deserving recipient of her love.


End file.
